One New Message
by bananalise
Summary: Unknown to everyone in her life, Gabriella Montes has been running a blog for the last five years. Her blog has gone unnoticed since it's start, but now she is getting messages from a boy, and she can't help but respond.
1. Chapter 1

_*one new message*_

Even though I've had this blog since 7th grade, my heart jumps every time I see that notification. Will this finally be one of my followers talking to me? Or just another computer generated virus waiting to destroy my life? The serial killer my mom always warned me about? Historically, it's been the second. I placed my peanut-butter filled spoon down on my desk and opened the message.

 _GottaBolt: Hey. I've read your blog for a few months now and I don't really care if this sounds creepy or lame but it's honestly what I look forward to every day. Did you really have a nip slip at church? I'd die._

Interesting. So, it wasn't the second one. Could still be the third, maybe a mixture of one and three? Either way wow, I've never had anyone say that before. Typically, the messages I get are either half-assed hellos or spam messages from someone selling something. It doesn't bother me at all though, my blog is just me ranting about how awkward and embarrassing I am while I pray to God himself that no one I know in real life will ever find it. Much to my surprise it's gained quite a following over the years. Last month I hit the milestone 5,000 followers and I get around that many reads per entry. Not that I could (or would) ever take responsibility for that. I've used a fake name since I started this thing, just to ensure that no one will know it's me. I chose the name "Norah" as a result of my long lived, not quite dead yet, Norah Jones phase. I've never uploaded a picture of my face on this blog either. Only pictures of my cat, Rey, and the occasional outfit only from the neck down. Yet still, people follow me. I guess my ranting about hating everything that I possibly could can be entertaining. It really does not make sense, if I'm going to be completely honest.  
Now what should I respond. This is always the toughest part for me, especially because I don't even have the skill of talking to people in real life without sounding or doing something stupid. I feel like I come across as too mean or stuck up, but it's only because I can't talk to people without my tongue forcing itself down my throat. The only person I've ever really felt comfortable talking to is my best friend Taylor, and that's only because she's just as unlikable and awkward as I am.

 _Norahble: Thank you so much wow! And yeah long story short, strapless maxi dresses and steps aren't a good match in God's house when you're as clumsy as I am._

That's how it started. From there on GottaBolt, aka Dan, and I talked every day for weeks. I'm not really one for making internet friends, but for some reason talking to him was easy. It wasn't crazy awkward or exciting. We didn't even really talk about big things happening in our lives. Just times that we have completely embarrassed ourselves to death and what we ate that day. It was just so comforting to have someone I could talk to and not worry about saying the wrong thing and then having to see them everyday, which is something I've always struggled with with my best friend, Taylor. It's so weird when you think about it. This stranger on the internet knows more about me than her, yet I wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

"Gabby!" My mom yelled from downstairs, "Are you ready yet? Taylor is outside!"

Um no, I was not ready. Why do I always sit in bed every morning on tumblr instead of getting ready? Do I really love to torture myself that much? I thought about skipping, but it was the first day back from winter break and I definitely could not convince my mom to let me stay home. I jumped up and looked in the mirror. I stared my dark brown eyes down, was this really all I have to work with? I sighed and pulled my tangled, probably greasy, thick brown curls up into a slightly sideways bun. Not my best look I know, but with the given materials and time frame that's usually all I could ever come up with in the morning. Next, I shuffled my feet over to my closet and looked over my options. My wide array of sweats stared me down. I reached for leggings and my school's hoodie. With the bobcat mascot stretched across my chest, I brushed my teeth and ran downstairs.

"Gabriella, are you seriously going out looking like that?" My mom hissed at me through her red lips while she grabbed my arm, "You look hideous." Her eyes looked me up and down in disbelief, as if I just told her to go screw herself.

My older sister, Sara, pulled my mom's arm off of me. She turned her head, her perfectly straightened silky hair turning with it, "Mom, seriously? Who the hell cares what she wears, it's just high school."  
Sara was twenty-five and already a top nurse at the local hospital here in Albuquerque. Although she is a striking mirror image of our mother, she never did share mom's less desired qualities. While mom hated everyone who wasn't a cookie-cutter J Crew model, Sara has always loved people who express themselves the way they want to. She is the nicest person I've ever met in my entire life. Sara knows how horribly my mother and I get along, so she moved back home until I graduate so our little suburban house won't become No Man's Land.  
Mom's eyes filled with rage as she turned to Sara and started yelling. I sighed, the last thing I wanted was to have this fight again so I grabbed an apple off the kitchen counter and ran out the door. Running threw our yard to get to her car she still yelled at me, though I seriously could not tell you what she said. When my mother gets like this the only thing my senses do is go away. I've learned enough in my seventeen years to know better than to argue with that woman at seven in the morning. Or anytime, for that matter. Even on the milder days like that one, I just can't stand being around her.

"Jeez. Well I'm not gonna change," Taylor said to me as I sat inside her car. She was wearing the same hoodie as I was, school mascot and all.

I stared into her bobcat's eyes, "Well I'm not going back in there." I tilted my head towards my house.

She sighed, "That bad, huh?" I nodded. Taylor and I have been friends since our first day of middle school when we both took classroom Jeopardy way too seriously. We ended up screaming in each other's face about capital cities and we, well she, slapped her hand so hard across my face my cheekbone was bruised for a week. Sure enough, we both loved Harry Potter and hated all the other girls in our class, so naturally we became friends. If there is one thing Taylor knows after all this time, it's that my mother's expectations of me and who I am are from totally different planets. Rather than being the beautiful and outgoing girl she was I am the average looking shy girl she would have given swirlies to in high school. I'm just some alien figure who actually reads and studies who lives in the same house as her and if she's lucky, she'll even get the chance to remind that alien that it is an utter disappointment to her.

* * *

 _"You've got to be kidding me_." I think to myself as my skin began to crawl. Every month in chemistry we have a new lab partner. The last two months I was lucky enough to be by myself and then with Kelsey, a girl who I had gone to school with since kindergarten and was at least civil with. This month however, I'm paired up with Ms. Sharpay Evans, otherwise known as the girl who has made my life a living hell since we were toddlers. I looked at the list again in disbelief and then to my new seat, only to find Sharpay glaring at me.

I walked over. Sharpay's blue eyes still darting into me. I could never tell you why she hates me so much, but she has since the moment we met. It was in middle school and because we were wearing the same shirt, she pushed my face into the dirt for "copying" her. I swear I picked rocks out of my hair for weeks. She's basically been a bitch since day one, but because she is pretty and dominant over everyone she meets she has managed to become homecoming queen for all of her years at East High. She's also been the lead of every school production, club, and fundraiser with absolutely no competition from the rest of the student body. Not only that, she has had the impressive feat of dating all of the school's star athletes at least once. For the past six months, that's been Troy Bolton. Sharpay Evans was an unstoppable tornado who, without any second thought, would rip your house completely out of the ground and leave you for the vultures.

"Hey did you look in the mirror at all this morning? Or was this seriously the best you could come up with?" She looked me up and down. I sunk into my seat. This will be a fun month. As if I don't get enough reminders at home of how undesirable I am. Suddenly, I got nervous for my grades. How does one focus on ions when your worst nightmare is sitting right next to you? How can you balance equations when all you hear are insults? I swear to God, if this bitch thinks that she can mess with my GPA, she's got another thing coming.  
After a long, torturous hour, I finally was able to get the hell out of there in one piece. I walked over to my locker, counting the red and white tiles as I looked down, and met up with Taylor who, unsurprisingly, laughed at my misfortune. "That's so fucking funny. Please fight her? I need something exciting to happen."

"I want to fight her so bad. But please, imagine me fighting for one second."

She laughed to himself and then patted me on the head, "A little shorty like you? You'll have to jump to reach her face."

I laughed too, "She'd claw my eyes out and still be head cheerleader. The school will throw a goddamn parade in her honor."

Even on my worst days, Taylor is always there to make me feel better. For some reason her attitude makes me feel happy. When my dog died, Taylor didn't say she was sorry or anything like that. All she did was make fun of me for getting two points less than her on a math quiz. Weirdly, it's always been that shitty, arrogant attitude that reminds me of what an amazing friend she is.

*one new message*

My phone beeped and I quickly reached into my pocket to answer it. I smiled and opened the message. Sure enough, it was Dan. Taylor rolled her eyes, "Is your eighty-year-old sugar daddy serial killer really texting you again? At this hour? You haven't told him you name or anything specific, right?"

I snickered, "No I haven't and for your information, he's seventeen. Do you know any serial killers our age? Or anyone who can afford a sugar baby for that matter?"

Taylor shut my locker door, accidentally slamming it in the process. The sound echoed across the hall and soon the closest teacher yelled at us for being disruptive. She sighed and looked me straight in the eyes, "Listen, Gabs. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. Especially right before mid-terms."  
"Colombia isn't going to decide what they think of me from one calculus test, Tay." I rolled my eyes. While everyone around me, including Taylor, were getting acceptance letters left and right, I still hadn't heard back from any. To Taylor that meant I was a failure and was not going to get in anywhere, especially not my top choice, Colombia.  
We walked to our next class, AP English, together. Much to her's and most of our class's dismay, were reading Shakespeare's "Othello". I had read it that previous summer and was pretty much flying through this book. I've never been one for public speaking- or anything- but my teacher, Ms. Reynolds, always made me lead the discussions because I was the only one who knew what the hell I was talking about. If it wasn't for Taylor sitting next to me, I would have 100% dropped the class.

"So, how was everyone's winter break? Please tell me you didn't forget about Othello." Ms. Reynolds pleaded. Her yellow-orange ringlets were pulled into a ponytail today. As much as I hate to admit it, she really did look like Ms. Frizzle. Her wardrobe consisted only of below-the-knee length skirts with zany patterns and sweater sets. Today, she was wearing a bright pink skirt plastered in dinosaurs, every single kind. Taylor always made fun of her outfits but I've always admired her ability to be herself. It must really take guts to dress like that in a building full of self-absorbed teenagers. "Did anyone go anywhere exciting?" She asked.

"The Land Before Time," a voice called from the back row. To no ones surprise, it was Chad Danforth. Basketball star, asshole extraordinaire. The class exploded in laughter and even Ms. Reynolds laughed. Well, everyone except for one.

"Chad stop being a dick." The blue eyed boy called out. Troy Bolton. Basketball star, less of an asshole extraordinaire. Unlike his best friend, Troy actually pretended to care about other people. I say pretend, well, because judging from his actions that's what I can assume. Yes, he would occasionally stand up for the kid being thrown into the dumpster, but after it happened he would go chug beer with the kids who did the throwing. He never _bullied_ I guess, but he was more of an accomplice. He just sat back and watched everything his friends did as if it didn't really bother him. For this he was labelled a "good guy", but personally I don't see anything good about only hanging out with people who think calling girls "fat sluts" and boys "pussies" a grand ole time.  
Of course, Chad has never called me that. The only people I'm sure know my name at this school are Taylor and Sharpay, and she only knows it so she can make call me ugly. So technically, you could say I don't have a reason to be so resentful of assholes. It just doesn't seem right to me. What can I say.

* * *

I knew that if I ran home before my mom came home I'd be able to write and post in peace. This one was short, I only wrote about my unfortunate encounter with Sharpay, but I was sure to make it as vague as possible in case she somehow got her hands on it. After it was live for an hour, I got a message.

 _Gottabolt: yikes. I read your last post. Tough day at the office?_

 _Norahble: Oh no dear, it was just a typical fight with my mom and my new lab partner is a total "see you next Tuesday". Nothing I can't handle though. How about you? Any new nemeses I should know about? Do I need to fight anyone?_

 _GottaBolt: Depends. Can you take down a two hundred pound man who has spent his entire life playing every sport known to man?_

 _Norahble: You'd be surprised what two classes of karate can teach a six year old girl. What's up with your dad? More basketball stuff?_

 _GottaBolt: He wants me to try out for captain this season, and I really could not imagine anything worse. If you could do whatever you wanted without your mom getting in the way, what'd you do?_

Huh. Dan had never really gotten so philosophical with me before that. Sure, we'd talked about things that have bothered us but we both have learned to just brush those comments off. I didn't really know what to say back, mostly because I never really thought of it. Sure, I'd love to eventually publish my writing, but my mom has already planned for me to be a nurse like Sara. And according to all my college applications, that's what I'm going to end up doing. I sighed and replied.

 _Norahble: Honestly? I only want to be able to eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's in sweatpants without hearing how fat and unattractive I'm becoming. How about you?_

 _GottaBolt: It's so embarrassing._

 _Norahble: Pleasee do tell._

 _GottaBolt: I'd do something crazy, like be in a play or something like that. Or sing somewhere that's not my shower. Just not basketball._

 _Norahble: Wow Dan, I never expected you to go all thespian on me._

 _GottaBolt: Don't be a dick, Norah._

 _Norahble: I'm not being anything. I just didn't think you'd want that type of attention, really. I hope you get to though. That's what college is for, right? Did you hear back from NYU yet?_

 _GottaBolt: Nope. And if my dad finds out I even applied he'd kill me._

 _Norahble: Well it's your life Dan. And you can't sit around and have your dad dictate every single move you make. It's depressing, really._

 _GottaBolt: That's easy for you to say, princess._

Princess? What the hell did that mean?

 _Norahble: No. It's really not, your majesty. You have no idea what it's like living with my mom._

 _Gottabolt: Yeah? Try having your dad control every single thing in your life from your friends to even your fucking girlfriend. I'm not fighting with you, Norah. I'm just being real. I can't go to school for theatre in the same way you can't dress the way you want. Difference is my problems actually effect the way the rest of my life is going to turn out. Sorry you can't wear sweats in peace._

He'd never really gotten mad at me before that.

 _Norahble: Look Dan, it's not like that's the only thing that she gets on me about. I'm just not one to talk about actual problems because it makes me and other people uncomfortable. Whatever. I can tell you don't want to talk to me right now. Bye._

I threw my phone onto my bed and laid down. I hate the way I talk to people. I really do. I can never actually talk about what's really bothering me, and I know that makes me sound like an ungrateful snob. I really do. I just don't want people to think I'm crazy, if that makes any sense. If Dan thought I was a spoiled brat, and he only knew the things about me that I told him about, then what does Taylor think of me? Or Sara? I sunk into my mattress, and a tear began to roll down my cheek. _Here I go again_ , I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

"It's not my fault that you always forget to pack a real lunch, Gabby." Taylor grabbed her peanut butter and jelly out of my hands. She was right, it was not her fault that I never bring lunch. Usually, she's nice enough to give me a couple carrots or half her sandwich to get me over until I go home. But today she was different, and not just about her food. She barely said anything today in the car ride to school and she didn't say one salty remark during English.

I forfeited the sandwich. I know better than to resist. "Are you okay, Tay?" She nodded, but again I insisted, "Really Tay. You can talk to me."

She sighed and put down her oreo, "Chad Danforth is sleeping with my sister."

My eyes grew wide, "What the fuck? How do you know?" Her younger sister, Miranda, was a sophomore here at East High. She wasn't the total opposite of Taylor per say, she was incredibly smart and had the same doll-like features, but she had a much more sunny disposition. Miranda was a cheerleader and frequented the weekend parties that East High was known for. I, of course, had never been to one of these.

"Well, last night I went into Miranda's room to borrow a pair of jeans. I knocked, but her music was pretty loud, I guess," She trailed off, "Anyway, I opened the door and there they were. I didn't even know she had someone over."

"What did they do?" I asked.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Well he jumped off the bed and she yelled at me to leave, but by the time she started yelling I was out of there." She covered her face with her hands, "Oh my God Gabby. My baby sister is fucking the biggest tool in the entire state of New Mexico and I can't do anything about it because she'd never listen to me."

"Did you tell your parents?" I ask, even though I know she definitely didn't. Taylor's parents have been M.I.A. ever since I've met her. Her father is some big producer out in Hollywood and only visits for holidays meanwhile her mother is always on some business trip. She hasn't even seen her mom since October, last I've heard.  
She shook her head no. We spent the rest of lunch in a dull, awkward silence. She studied for her anatomy quiz next week and I began writing my daily blog. That morning, I was a little shocked to find that my mom was not home. The note she wrote last night telling Sara and I that she was going on a date was still on the counter, so I assumed she was in some divorcee's apartment uptown. I lived for mornings like today's. Sara and I made pancakes and were able to finally catch up. Her shifts at the hospital were mainly overnight, so I was only able to see her before school. Mom's screaming usually tainted those mornings for us, but today was peaceful.

Soon enough the bell rang and lunch was over. I said goodbye to Taylor and much to my dismay, she did not say it back. Once I got to chemistry, Sharpay's jaw dropped when she saw me. I almost forgot that I actually got dressed today. I threw on a dark green long-sleeved dress and paired it with some black boots. Sara helped me straighten my hair, and I borrowed her lipstick. I never really saw our family resemblance, except for days like today. Although my hair was definitely not as silky as hers, we both have the same cowlick in the front of out face. Our uncle has joked that the back of our heads look the same, but that's where everyone has always drawn the line. I'd hate to admit it, but I really did look good.

"Playing dress up?" Sharpay snarled at me as I sat down. I brushed it off. Her comments were becoming a novelty in my life. Yesterday she said my hair looked like a dog, and I couldn't help but laugh. _At least I wasn't named after a dog._ I thought to myself.  
Our teacher began passing back tests, and I couldn't help but feel nervous from the choir of sighs and "oh shits" I heard across the room. I wasn't necessarily bad at chem, but I wasn't ready to become a chemist either. Mr. Karp passed me my test, 97. I was a little shocked, but I smiled to myself.

As I was putting the test away, Sharpay ripped it from my hands. "How the fuck did you do that? I got a 54 and I'm sitting right next to you."

"I just studied," I shrugged, "You should try it sometime."

"Um, excuse me? Who do you think you're talking to, bitch." She groaned, "You have to help me out in this class."

I was truly amazed, "Why would I ever do that?"

Sharpay lowered her voice, "Okay, look, if I don't pass this class I can't be in the spring musical. People from Julliard are coming to watch my performance. It's going to be one of the most important shows of my life, I can't miss it." Her pale blue eyes actually looked nervous, an emotion I never thought Sharpay could convey.

"Well, I guess I could help you." I couldn't believe I said that. What was I getting myself into? "Just stop calling me ugly all the time? It's starting to get really annoying."

She laughed, "Well whatever! I'm just thinking out loud most of the time. I can't help it."

I laughed too, I couldn't believe she said that. "Then I can't help you, Sharpay." I turned away from her. Just when I thought she had some level of humanity in her, I was once again proved to be wrong.

Sharpay panicked, "Wait! If I try to not say everything I think, would you help me?"

I rolled my eyes, "Fine. I'm sure Mr. Karp was planning on making me do it eventually anyway."

Suddenly, I jolted up as I felt someone's arms wrap around me. Sharpay Evans was _hugging_ me. "Okay wow, please stop." I pushed her off of me. She was smiling, and it was a type of smile I'd never seen before. To my complete and utter surprise, Sharpay Evans was happy, and she hadn't even made fun of someone.

* * *

*one new message*

I walked over to my desk. It was Dan. Honestly, I was not expecting to hear back from him so soon after last night's talk. He posted another blog about how much his dad is obsessed with him becoming the captain this season earlier today. It was less angry, but it wasn't necessarily bright either.

 _GottaBolt: Norah, are you busy?_

 _Norahble: Nope. Are you still mad at me?_

 _GottaBolt: No. But please stop acting like you know how bad my father is._

If there is one thing I can count on Dan for, it's a non-apology.

 _Norahble: No promises._

 _GottaBolt: Hey, you've never told me what your dad is like._

 _Norahble: I don't really want to._

 _GottaBolt: That's unfair._

I sat back in the desk chair. Unfair? I don't owe him any explanation about anything in my life. Dan was becoming to be both incredibly annoying and controlling, and I was really not a fan of either.

 _Norahble: He's an asshole. In a different way that your dad is. I wouldn't want to one up you._

 _GottaBolt: Why would you one up me?_

 _Norahble: He sucks, point blank. He's an addict. He spent all my mom and his retirement fund on alcohol and cocaine and when that wasn't enough, he used heroin. We used to live in Houston, but my sister, mom, and I left after he got really bad. I haven't talked to him since I was ten._

Not even Taylor knows how bad things got between my dad and us. One day, right before we left, I got home from school and heard my parents fighting in our small kitchen. She had burned some mac and cheese and he was high or drunk or both and was screaming at her. I peered in from the doorway, hiding behind to wall. My mom's eyes were black from her running mascara, and he was grabbing her by the shoulders, spitting his words into her face. After he was done screaming, he turned around and saw me standing there. His jaw clenched when he saw my small frame. He stormed over and picked me up, screaming at me. Telling me I should stay in my place and go fuck off. I started to cry, and because I was crying he smashed his bottle across my face, cutting my cheek. After that he ran out of the house and drove off. My mom rushed over, and it was obvious I needed stitches. I don't remember the pain, because it was so long ago, but judging from the scar on my right side of my face it must have been bad. He took the car, so my mom ran over to the neighbor's house and begged to borrow their car, and we eventually ended up in the hospital. We left the next week for my grandmother's house in Phoenix, but we stayed in Albuquerque because my mom landed a job at some insurance firm.

 _GottaBolt: I'm sorry, Norah._

 _Norahble: Don't be. It was a long time ago. Besides, I like New Mexico way better than Texas._

Oh shit. I'd been careful to not mention where I live since I'd started this blog.

 _GottaBolt: No way! What part of New Mexico? I'm in Albuquerque. That's so weird._

I slammed my computer shut. Was he just messing with me? I didn't want to find out. He was definitely messing with me, it's so unlikely that we would live in the same city. Maybe Taylor is right and he is a serial killer, and now I've given him my general location. I bet now he's going to track down my IP address and come murder me in my sleep. How could I fuck up so badly? I sighed and walked over to my bed, flopping over. My cat, Leo, jumped onto my bed. He walked over to me purring. "What am I gonna do?" I asked as I patted his head.

"Hey Gabby. You got a minute?" Sara knocked on my door. She walked in. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she was still in her scrubs, she must have just gotten home. I nodded and she sat on my bed. She was playing with her hands, she was nervous. "I've been seeing someone."

I smiled, Sara had been single for as long as I could remember. It never really made sense to me, she was beautiful. "That's so good Sara, how long?"

"A couple months or so," She smiled, but then it quickly faded, "We went to high school together. I don't think you'll remember him, but it's Tyler Erickson."

She was right, I didn't remember him. She kept going, "He lives in San Diego now and we've been catching up and he visited last month. He, um, he wants me to move out there to be with him."

I was surprised, to say the least. Sara has never seemed like the type of person to move to another state to be with some guy she's only been seeing for a couple months. "Are you going to?"

She nodded, "I already talked to mom, but I've been afraid to tell you. I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you or anything."

"Why would I think that?"

Sara sighed, "I only stayed in Albuquerque for you Gabby. I don't want you to be alone."

"You shouldn't put your life on pause, you should go." I said. "I'll be fine." I knew as soon as I said that that I would not be fine without her. She has always been my rock, my guardian I guess. I know I have Taylor, but other than her the only person I've ever been able to count on is Sara. Without Sara around, who would protect me? Who would take my side? I was even beginning to dread college because I didn't want to be away from her.

Sara's face lit up, "Thank you so much Gabby." She hugged me. Ever since we were little, Sara has inexplicably smelt like vanilla. I breathed in the scent and began to cry. I didn't know how I could ever survive without my sister around.

"When are you leaving?" I asked, trying to hide my tears.

"Well, today was my last day at work. So technically whenever I want to."

My heart sunk. I'd been given news without little warning before, but nothing like this.

"Do you have a job out there? What are you going to do?" Sara was the top nurse at her hospital, and I'm sure she'll be able to get any job she could ever want with just one letter of rec from her old boss.

She told me no and that she isn't too worried about it. Apparently, Tyler was some big shot programmer for an app company and already owned a house. My sister explained that she would most likely be leaving in a few weeks, she only has to finish packing. I was shocked. Sara had never been a spontaneous person. At the same time, I was proud of her for doing something for herself. As much as I needed her, I was holding her back. The last thing I wanted was to be the reason why she's miserable.

"Hey, let's go order some take out before mom comes home. I know you want some lo mein!" Sara jumped up and ran downstairs. I wiped away another tear and followed her.

* * *

*one new message*

 _ **GottaBolt:** Hey you there?_

I sighed. I would have to talk to him sooner or later.

 _ **Norahble:** Yeah I'm here. What's up?_

 _ **GottaBolt** : Why'd you disappear on me earlier?_

 _ **Norahble** : Sorry, things just kinda popped up. My sister is moving. _

_**GottaBolt** : Oh, is that bad?_

 _ **Norahble** : It's whatever. She'll be happier with her boyfriend. I hope. I haven't met him._

 _ **GottaBolt** : Well good for her. So...New Mexico?_

 _ **Norahble** : Yup._

 _That's all you're getting out of me._ I thought. _I don't want to get psycho-killer murdered by some stranger on the internet._

 _ **Gottabolt** : That's so weird. _

_**Norahble** : Tell me about it._

 ** _GottaBolt:_** _Well, we could be in the same coffee line and not know. That's just, weird._

He was right. It's crazy and also insanely creepy. I didn't know how to feel about it. It was scary and also very cool. What if we've always known each other, but because I don't use my real name, he won't know it's me. That became the only comforting thought on the subject for me.


	3. Chapter 3

"Gabby!" Sharpay's voice startled me as I walked into the classroom. This new found friendship has been...disturbing to say the least. I had started tutoring her about a week before and to my surprise, we were actually getting along. Before I knew it Sharpay Evans was coming up to me in the hallway just to say hello. She offered to take me shopping and she even asked me to sit with her at lunch, which I declined. I didn't want to leave Taylor alone. I also didn't want to sit with Sharpay and her barbie-doll friends. Every high school has that group of girls who appear to chug foundation by the gallon and Sharpay was the leader of those girls. They weren't all evil like Sharpay, some were surprisingly nice. I knew that because it wasn't just Sharpay who was saying hello to me now. It was all of her friends. Well, her gal pals. No boys were paying attention to me.

"Gabby oh my god!" Sharpay squealed as I sat down, "Are you free Friday night?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked. I was always free.

She smiled, "Well, my parents are going to be out of town so I'm throwing a party. It's nothing huge, like a hundred people at most." A hundred? That's not huge? I don't think I even knew a hundred people. "Wanna come? You'll have to look nice, of course." She looked me up and down. I was back to my sweatshirt and leggings uniform.

I grinned, "I'll definitely think about it." I meant it, too. It was my senior year and I still hadn't been to any parties. My lack of enthusiasm for my classmates was probably the cause of that. I've never really felt like I was missing out, though. Some people party, some people pull all nighters editing their blog. I was the latter.

After yet another dreadful hour of chemistry, my school day was done. I headed out the door to my locker, but Sharpay was trailing behind me begging me to come to her party. I finally gave in. Maybe chugging beer with the East High elite wouldn't be so bad? I assumed I'd just find some corner to sit in and play games on my phone. When I finally reached my locker, Taylor was there waiting for me. Her eyes rolled as she saw Sharpay say goodbye to me.

"You're going to get some airborne reaction to all that spray tan, Gabby." Taylor went on, "Who knows what kind of chemicals are in that thing."

"Relax, Tay. I'm only tutoring her." I laughed, "It's not like I'm planning on being an oompa loompa anytime soon."

She protested, "I don't even know why you're helping her. She's a bitch."

"She invited me to a party." I admitted. Why shouldn't I tell Taylor?

Taylor's voice was harsh, "You're not going, are you?"

I shrugged, "I'm thinking about it," When I turned to face Taylor, her face was red. "What's your problem, Tay?"

"Are you really going to ditch me for them?" She muttered.

I stepped back, "I'm not ditching you for anyone. Chill Taylor. I'm allowed to talk to people who aren't you."

"You're turning into a real bitch, Gabriellla. Fuck off."

And with that, Taylor stormed off, leaving me alone. She's always been dramatic, but she'd never ran away from me before. I looked up at the ceiling and stared at the light. I wasn't going to cry at school. After taking a deep breath I shut my locker and started walking home.

* * *

I didn't live too far from the school, so I still managed to get home before my mom. She was now "official" with that guy. Sara has met him, but I haven't. I wasn't interested in meeting the guy who is sleeping with my mom. All I knew was that he was a lot older than my mom, had no kids, and was an accountant downtown. That was good enough for me. When I walked upstairs, I saw that my entire closet was thrown onto my bed and floor. For someone who constantly tears me down, my mother loved my clothes. We were both petite and we shared the same size in a lot of pieces. I sighed and began hanging everything back up. Pulling each shirt back onto the hanger, I heard a knock on the front door. I ran downstairs and to my surprise, there was Sharpay. A box was in her hands.

"I have an idea." She walked in, placing the box down on the kitchen counter.

"And what would that be?" I questioned. I tried peering into the box but it was unfortunately taped shut.

She sat down, "Well, you may not know this about me but I've been taking hairdressing lessons from my aunt. She works in Hollywood, ya know? And like, I've only ever worked on straight hair." Sharpay looked at my thick curls.

"Nope, nope, no way!" I called out. It had been years since I cut my hair. There was no way in hell I'm letting this Barbie come near my head with scissors.

"Pleaseee!" She begged. This was becoming a common theme in my life. "Just a trim? I think it'll look great just below your shoulders."

"Sharpay I don't trust you that much." I shook my head.

She went on, "What if I set you up with someone? You don't have a boyfriend or anything right?" She was right. The closest thing I had to a boyfriend was my cat. But a boyfriend was really not enough incentive to cut off my hair. Then, I remembered what Taylor said. If I was already becoming such a bitch to her, shouldn't I try to make new friends? This haircut, as much as I didn't want it, could make Sharpay and I closer. It's crazy, but Sharpay was nicer to me now than Taylor ever was. She didn't snap at me, and the occasionally jab at my appearance was becoming more endearing than hurtful.

I sighed, "Just a little bit! And if you ruin my head I'm legally allowed to kill you, okay?" Sharpay smiled and hugged me. What did I get myself into?

I ducked into the shower to wet my hair and by the time I got out she was set up. She opened the box and inside was more than just scissors and an apron. She has tons of makeup too. She explained to me that she wanted to test out and see what I'd look like all done up. I protested, of course, but in the end I decided what the hell. She combed out my hair and began chopping. She cut it right to my shoulders and then added layers. It wasn't a bad experience, really. Having someone play with my hair is one of the most calming things for me. After about twenty minutes she was done, and began blowing out my hair. Turning my chair around, she smiled.

"Oh my god! It's so good Gabby! Go look!" She grabbed my hand and lead me into the bathroom. The long, coarse curls were gone. My hair was straight from the blowout, and it looked almost silky. I ran my fingers through it. The length really did frame my face better, I looked so much older.

"Wow, Sharpay. I love it." I turned away from the mirror to face her, "Thank you so much."

"You're gonna look so hot on Friday!"

I laughed, maybe I would.


End file.
